


breathing spell

by scorpionGrass



Series: you can’t put a price on peace (of mind) [15]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: End of the World, Gen, Plans For The Future, Smoking, or lackthereof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionGrass/pseuds/scorpionGrass
Summary: Cid's fingers itch as they head to the Northern Cave. They’re only an hour in on their flight there, and the pilot he trained is full of confidence on take-offs and landings and everything in-between even though they’re all basically heading toward their deaths.
Series: you can’t put a price on peace (of mind) [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1363234
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	breathing spell

Cid tries to smoke outside as much as possible. He doesn’t like the smell of it after he’s done, lingering on his fingertips or hovering in stale air. It’s not something he wants, even if he  _ is _ a chain-smoker (he’s definitely not about to dispute that).

But it gets harder the longer things go on.

Long trips around the world, heading from place to place, have them staying onboard the Highwind for excruciatingly extended periods of time. At least on his bi-plane he was open to the air. On the Highwind, with all of its rooms and decks, he’s hardly in a position to just go outside and smoke.

(Yes, there is the deck, but who the hell wants to be buffeted by winds that strong this high up in the thin atmosphere? Not Cid.)

Not to mention the sheer amount of  _ stress _ this whole ordeal has been chock full of. Ever since Cloud’s crew arrived in Rocket Town, he’s been full of stress. Unwanted, unwelcome, unnecessary stress (but it was his choice, in the end, to help them save the planet, even when given the chance to leave).

His fingers itch as they head to the Northern Cave. They’re only an hour in on their flight there, and the pilot he trained is full of confidence on take-offs and landings and everything in-between even though they’re all basically heading toward their deaths. The entire cockpit area smells like smoke, and yeah that’s on Cid, but no one stopped him from lighting up till his lighter was out of fluid and he had to start borrowing Red’s tail just to get a good burn going.

Red didn’t complain, even with that sharp nose of his. “Grandpa smokes too,” he’d said when Cid asked him the first time. “It reminds me of home.”

“He swears a bit less when he’s got one of those in his hand,” Barret commented to Tifa once, and she’d laughed, cracking a smile that had been missing ever since their first visit to the City of the Ancients.

Cid can’t dispute that either.

“Hey, Red,” Cid says finally, tired of itching his fingers raw. If he’s gonna die, he wants a damn smoke. “Gimme a light.”

He pulls out a fresh pack as Red pads over, having finished the last one the night before when Cloud had given them all the choice to stay or go. As if it was a choice when they’re all neck-deep in this, for better or worse. Till death do they part and all.

A stick slides out onto his palm, and he holds the end out. Red lifts his tail over carefully, setting the flame at the end at the very tip of the stick (unlike the first time, when he’d burned the entire thing to ash on the floor and had to cast a cure for the burns left on Cid’s hand). Smoke begins to curl up and Cid grimaces as he jams the cigarette between his lips.

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, staring out at the endless sky, punctuated only by Meteor looming red and heavy in the distance.

Red sits beside him quiet for a long moment before he says what’s on his mind. “You complained the whole time. You only came because we stole your plane,” he says, tail waving lazily back and forth. “What made you stay?”

Cid’s eyes slide over to watch Red’s curious gaze on him. “This planet… it’s like a sick child. Hell if anyone else is gonna take care of it. So I’m gonna.”

Red nods with a hum.

Silence befalls them, save for Tifa and Barret’s hushed discussion by one of the control panels. Cloud is with Vincent, trading over bright materia and trying to figure out the most useful combination for his sword. Yuffie is with them, though for once her eyes aren’t glued to the materia. She already asked for them to hand all of their materia over to Wutai when this is all said and done. If they survive.

She’s the only one still making plans like their lives aren’t forfeit the moment they land in the Northern Cave. Cid remembers sitting around campfires, Aerith and Tifa talking about going shopping in Midgar one day. Inviting them all for a drink at the bar Tifa runs, where Barret lives with his daughter, Marlene. He’d even pulled out photos on his PHS, passing it around so everyone could see the adorable little girl he’s raising.

Cid exhales, smoke filling his vision and burning his eyes. If any of them survive, it has to be Barret, he thinks. He has someone to go home to. To take care of.

His thoughts drift to Shera, probably sitting at their home in Rocket Town, brewing some calming tea for herself while worrying herself sick. She’d be better off without him. She’d chew his head off if she heard him say that, but it’s true. Cid’s done nothing but cause her unnecessary grief. Least he can do now is make sure the planet survives and she can live a normal life without him ruining every moment.

(But, maybe, if he survives, he’ll apologize and die of lung cancer in a few years like he’s supposed to.)

**Author's Note:**

> been craving cid fic a lot lately so i decided to contribute to the cid content on here <3 thanks for reading!


End file.
